


I Wish

by chemically_imbalanced_romance



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Gen, Gore, Knives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_imbalanced_romance/pseuds/chemically_imbalanced_romance
Summary: Logan manifests as the first side, before Thomas is even one year old. He can’t handle emotions.





	I Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, it gets really dark really fast at the end

He woke to blackness. 

Logan knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was in the Subconscious. The net cradled his body, making it difficult to move, murky black smoke drifting in through the holes. He was quickly losing air. He was just created, and now he was going to die. 

He reached blindly forward and gripped onto the net, hauling himself up. Just that move alone took most of his energy. He forced himself to climb, though, climb higher and higher until he crawled his way out of the Subconscious, and into the Mindscape. The Mindscape was miles and miles of pale nothingness. 

It was all very blurry.  _ I wish I could see better _ , he thought, and then glasses appeared on the floor. He put them on, and his vision turned clear. 

_ I wish I knew what was going on _ . A journal appeared. 

He sat criss cross and pulled it into his lap, flipping it open. It was a scrapbook. The first picture was of an infant, captioned  _ Thomas Sanders; 4/24/1989.  _ The last picture was, startlingly, of Logan. It was captioned  _ Logic is born _ , with a date six months after Thomas’s birthday. 

Logan glanced up as a small, boxed TV appeared in front of him. It was Thomas’s eyes. He was trying to stand up, gripping onto the bars of his playpen. 

“You have to pull,” Logan said, “to get yourself to your feet.” 

Thomas immediately listened to him, and stood up, putting most of his weight on the bars. Logan beamed. 

As Thomas’s mom came in and started squealing, Logan looked to the side, where a floor length mirror now stood. He furrowed his eyebrows, dropping the book and walking over. 

He didn’t look like Thomas. He was… Older. Much older, by a couple of years. He was dressed in denim shorts and a dark blue sweater vest. If he really thought about it, he guessed he saw the resemblance, like maybe he was Thomas in a few years. But that didn’t really make sense to him. Why would Thomas travel back in time to sit inside his own skull? 

A few hours later, Thomas’s dad laid him down for a nap.  _ I wish I had somewhere to sleep, too.  _

Then, the Mindscape morphed into a small bedroom, with navy walls. There was a bookshelf, a desk, and a bed, with pajamas folded neatly on top. 

Logan fell into his role easily. The only thing that confused him, maybe even upset him, was that he was the only one there. He was entitled ‘Logic,’ so why was he handling the emotions, as well? He didn’t like the emotions. They were scary, and unpredictable. 

One time, Thomas was hungry, and Logan didn’t know how to get his parents’ attention. He were in his crib, alone. Logan thought maybe making some noise would attract them, so he told Thomas to throw a toy. It smashed against the wall, which eased Logan’s frustration some, but scared Thomas so badly he started crying. Logan told him to break another one. Thomas broke three toys before his mom finally burst into the room, taking him downstairs to get something to eat. Logan noted in his journal that making noise led to receiving care, although something told him he didn’t handle that as well as he could have. 

One emotion Logan never hated was curiosity. He didn’t even know if he could call it an emotion, because it was predictable. If Logan didn’t know or understand something, he felt the need to figure it out. Simple. Easy.  _ Predictable _ . 

Thomas often spent the afternoons sitting on the carpet, playing with his toys, while his parents watched movies on the couch. Thomas would always try to escape, to try to figure out where all these doors and corridors led to. Logan recently began to remember the places they’ve already been, but there was one door that eluded him. He was so curious it burned up inside him. 

He waited for his parents to be engrossed in conversation, then pushed the joystick forward and yelled, “ _ Go, go, go! _ ” 

Thomas shot for the door, crawling faster than he ever had. He must have made it miles before he was snatched. His mom was  _ laughing _ , like this was a  _ game _ . 

“You almost got away from me, there,” she said, settling him on her lap. 

“I know!” Logan snapped, huffing. He set the controller down. He had to know what was behind that door. 

That night, Logan tells Thomas to crawl out of his crib. Neither of them remembered doing it before, with the playpen, but it was essentially the same thing- Logan reminded Thomas to pull with his arms, but when they realized Thomas couldn’t lift his leg, Logan told him to lean forward. The crib tipped over, Thomas spilling out onto the floor. 

“That made a lot of noise,” Logan mumbled. “Better hurry up.”

The door was cracked open, so Thomas easily waddled out of the room. He was halfway across the hall when the very door he was heading towards swung open, his dad looking terrified. He sighed and laughed when he saw Thomas standing there, gripping onto the wall. 

Logan was distressed, thinking it was all over- But then Thomas peeked around their dad, into the room. It had a dresser, and the biggest bed Logan had ever seen, and a TV. Two huge pieces of fabric were strung along the wall. Thomas’s dad put them back to bed, but Logan got what he wanted. 

Before Logan could even process it, it was Thomas’s first birthday, marking six months since Logan was manifested. He didn’t know what to expect. He was proud of himself for managing six months, but it seemed like Thomas’s parents had something planned, and he couldn’t figure out what. It scared him. 

There were balloons, cake, bright decorations everywhere, and a lot of people. Thomas loved it; loved the decorations, the attention, and especially the cake. 

Logan did not. 

It was all too much. This was the worst possible thing to happen- This is the worst thing that  _ has _ happened! This is worse than when Thomas accidentally ripped Mrs. Fluffybottom! This is worse than when Thomas tried to stand using the coffee table for support, but fell and bumped his head on the corner. There was far too much going on, too much attention. Logan didn’t know what to focus on, what could be a threat, what the next course of action was… 

Thomas started crying- Loud, ear piercing wailing. Thomas’s parents hurried him out of the room to calm him down, and even recognized he was overwhelmed, thank goodness. Thomas was laid down for a nap, giving Logan the perfect opportunity to take one, too. 

He expected to sleep, but found he couldn’t. Gross, awful guilt infected his insides. He gathered from everyone else that this was supposed to be a fun occasion, and… Logan ruined it. He was selfish, and too scared.  _ Scared _ . 

_ I wish I didn’t have to be scared, or overwhelmed, or nervous, or angry, or frustrated, ever again.  _

__ Nothing happened. He could wish for anything he wanted- Anything but that. 

Later, after Thomas slept peacefully and Logan did not, his parents helped him open up his presents. He got a lot of new toys and stuffed animals, all of which Thomas loved. By the end, Logan didn’t think he could handle one more new thing. He knew he would hate the last present before Thomas’s mom even opened it. 

She and Thomas pulled off the wrapping together, and revealed a small, furry toy. It was harmless enough at first, but then his mom pressed a button, and it was suddenly loud and moving on its own. Logan slammed his hand down on the red button at his desk and Thomas started wailing, terrified of the little thing. 

His mom quickly took it away and turned it off, letting Thomas calm down. Logan caught his breath, gripping his desk. He was ready for this stressful day to be over. 

“It’s okay,” Thomas’s mom said gently, picking him up, “you don’t have to like everything.” She took it and put it in the toybox. 

Both of Thomas’s parents worked, so he was at daycare a lot. They tried not to leave him there on holidays, but decided to go out together on Valentine’s Day. Apparently a lot of parents did the same, because there were much more kids than usual. Thomas played with Legos close to where the older kids were sitting, gathered at long tables with sharp things and pink and red paper. Thomas didn’t quite get it, but Logan could understand everything their teacher was saying. 

He learned that the hearts the kids were making represented the one they had inside their chest, where all their love was stored. It was the source of all their emotions. Logan wished he didn’t have a heart. 

Logan started sleeping a lot- Way more than he should. He knew, deep down, that it wasn’t safe, and Thomas could get hurt, but he had trouble caring. He was just so tired, and Thomas could handle himself for a few hours, right? 

Thomas was with a babysitter, who sat with him in his room to play with his toys. Thomas dug around in his toybox, and pulled out the small, furry one he got for his birthday- The one he didn’t remember being afraid of. 

As soon as his babysitter started it up, the fear rushed through him, and he started screaming and crying. Logan jumped out of bed, gasping and running to the TV. 

“No, no, no!” He grabbed his controller, but it was too late. Thomas was too distressed to be controlled. 

It took hours for the babysitter to calm him down. Logan eventually covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, and started to cry with him. His chest was tight with guilt, and he sat there crying for much longer than Thomas did. 

A few weeks before Thomas’s second birthday, a door appeared in Logan’s room. He sat at the edge of his bed, just looking at it. He finally got the courage to go over to it, slowly opening it. It led to a hallway, much like the one in Thomas’s own house. Across from Logan’s room, was a white door with pink flowers. Smack in the middle was a sign that said,  _ Coming soon!  _

Logan stepped back inside his room and slammed the door shut. 

Logan stayed up all night before Thomas’s birthday. He kept reliving last year, how he ruined everything. He was plagued with awful nightmares, the product of guilt and depression. The product of  _ emotions _ , the things he’s grown to hate. 

He pulled the scrapbook off the bookshelf, which has grown considerably. Several new events arrived, like a picture of Thomas dressed like a bumblebee for his first Halloween, or his first time eating a cookie. For the first time, there was a blank page. Logan left it open on his desk. 

His fear only grew that day, and by the time Thomas’s mom told his dad that the guests should arrive in about half an hour, he was so scared he felt like he might throw up. 

He didn’t want to ruin another birthday. He didn’t want to make Thomas cry anymore. He didn’t want to disappoint Thomas’s parents again. 

He couldn’t do it. 

_ I wish I had a knife _ . 

It appeared in his hand. His heart pumped so fast it slammed against his chest, and that just made him angry, like it had the gall to complain. He plunged the knife into his chest, right next to where his heart should be, letting out a scream. He fell to his knees as he started carving, carving, all around his heart, leaving a big hole in his chest. He dropped the knife and reached inside, slowly pulled his heart out, and threw it on the floor. 

He sobbed, and screamed, until his throat was raw, the tears falling onto his still pumping heart. He thought he was crazy when it first started to expand. The more it grew, the more the shape changed, his chest healed. The cavity he pulled his heart out of was heavy with weightlessness. 

His heart grew into a person- One identical to Logan, in a pink sweater with cat ears and whiskers on it, and a skirt. A picture appeared in the scrapbook, with the caption  _ Morality is born.  _ And Logan knew this person was here to save him.  


End file.
